


can't be broken if there's nothing left to break

by pro_daydreamer



Category: The AM Archives (Podcast), The Bright Sessions (Podcast), The College Tapes (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Caleb Suffers, Gen, Mark Suffers, Oliver suffers, Oliver tries to fix himself, Seamus Blackwell is an asshole, but not when it's anxiety and pain, projecting emotions, sharing emotions is caring, sometime after TCT ep 11 but definitely doesn't happen in canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:22:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27244156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pro_daydreamer/pseuds/pro_daydreamer
Summary: “I don’t want to take that risk,” Marks says, shaking his head.“But what if it helps, Byron? What if this is the thing that could fix me?”“But what if it hurts you?”“It’s emotions, Mark. I think I can handle feeling a little bit more happy than usual.”“I don’t want to be the one who leaves you broken, Oliver.”“Can’t be broken if there’s nothing left to break,” Oliver laughs bitterly.Seamus Blackwell suggests that high emotions can trigger abilities to work and Oliver leaps at the opportunity, much to the dismay of Caleb and Mark.
Relationships: Mark Bryant/Oliver Ritz
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	can't be broken if there's nothing left to break

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea if this is any good or not but I gave it a try. Bits of it may not make complete sense but the pain is there and that's what's important.

The basement is cold and Mark can’t help but think that that must be a common thing. He is watching Blackwell as he walks too close to Oliver and he feels the shivers spread over his skin.

“I do wonder whether with Mr Bryant, Mr Michaels and myself all here we could amplify an emotion even further?” Blackwell ponders, looking between the three of them. His eyes are trained on Mark like a predator and Mark can feel the familiar crawling on his skin from being observed.

“What do you mean by that?” Caleb asks defensively, his shoulders tensing. Mark instinctively takes a step in front of him, keeping his eyes trained on Blackwell. He knows that Caleb can feel that crawling observation too, that prickly curiosity. Logically, putting himself between Caleb and Blackwell can do nothing to stop the emotions but Mark puts himself there anyway, placing himself in Blackwell’s focus.

“Consider this,” Blackwell begins. “With three acting empaths in the same room, we could escalate the potency of an emotion. If each one of us can push an emotion onto someone else, whilst feeling that emotion coming from the others, imagine how  _ powerful _ that would be.”

“I don’t know where you’re going with this, old man, but I don’t like it,” Mark says, glancing back at Oliver who appears deep in thought.

“How often is it that we can get two such advanced empaths — and an individual who can mirror such power — to try this together? This could be a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

At this, Blackwell pointedly looks at Oliver. 

Mark’s heart sinks a little.

“It would be a shame if that opportunity were never explored, would it not? Especially when we know the power of emotional triggers for atypical abilities.”

Mark has never been overly fond of using empath abilities. Back in the AM, they tested empaths to the extreme, trying to see just how much they could feel, shoved emotions into them until their minds were an exhausted mess of colour and pain. Being around Caleb in the past few years has made it somewhat easier but when he feels that little twinge of excitement from Oliver he remembers again just how much he hates this feeling. He hates the knowing, the invasion.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mark sees Caleb glance at Oliver too. 

“It would be a shame, wouldn’t it,” Oliver says.

“You are a man of science after all, you wouldn’t let a worthy experiment go to waste.” Blackwell is staring right at Oliver and Mark can feel the slimy persuasion dripping from his words. Oliver taps his foot on the ground, thinking it over.

“It couldn’t hurt,” he says after a second. Mark and Caleb both turn sharply to stare at him.

“Oliver, what are you doing?” Mark asks, hoping that Oliver isn’t already too interested in the scientific possibilities to realise what a bad idea this is.

“Come on Byron,” Oliver says quietly, turning to Mark. “It’s just a little test, just to see how it feels.”

“Oliver, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Caleb steps forward from where he was standing behind Mark, squaring his shoulders.

“No one asked you, kid.”

Caleb flinches a little at Oliver’s words.

“You’re suggesting he uses his abilities to push emotions on you so I think he does get a say.” Mark points out, taking another step forward towards Oliver.

“It wouldn’t have to be for long,” Blackwell muses, seemingly unphased by Mark and Caleb’s adamant objection to the idea. “It could be just a small trial with a benign little emotion. Happiness, perhaps?”

“I could use some of that,” Oliver mutters under his breath.

“I’m not doing it,” Mark says, turning to Blackwell. “Caleb isn’t either, you can’t make us do this.”

“Well that is a shame,” Blackwell says slowly, clasping his hands together in front of him and glancing over at Oliver once more. Oliver seems to straighten up and his eyes clear a little as a new emotion begins to flood his mind. Mark feels it coming off of him in cool waves. Determination. 

“Byron, come on.” Oliver walks up to stand in front of him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It will be fine, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Oliver…” Mark starts and he wishes, he just  _ wishes  _ that Oliver didn’t feel so sure about this. 

As the thought crosses his mind, he feels Oliver’s determination waiver slightly. Hope rises in his chest before being sunk by the realisation that Mark’s own emotions are pushing towards Oliver, stretching out to him. He jerks back, physically stumbling away from Oliver as he recoils. 

He can’t do that. 

Control people so they do what he wants. 

He can  _ never  _ do that.

Oliver’s eyebrows crease in concern as Caleb takes a step towards Blackwell.

“Mark is right, we’re not doing it,” Caleb says, looking between Mark and Oliver. Mark knows he can probably feel what just happened. The give and take of emotions and the sharp rise of Mark’s panic.

“Well, that is disappointing,” Blackwell says, turning away from them to move towards the door. “I thought I could expect better from the three of you.”

“Seamus, wait.” Oliver turns to Mark and holds Mark’s shoulders gently. “Byron, please. I promise I’ll tell you to stop if it hurts.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will. I can  _ always  _ trust you not to get yourself hurt.” Mark rolls his eyes at Oliver and shifts a little in his grasp.

“Mark…”

“Oliver, I’m not going to do this to you,” Mark says, meeting Oliver’s eyes unflinching. Oliver’s grip relaxes for a second, his determination ebbing on its own this time. Mark almost breathes out a sigh of relief but holds himself steady, solid.

“You won’t do it even if it could fix his ability?” Blackwell asks.

Oliver freezes and Mark’s stomach sinks as a spark of excitement flares inside Oliver.

“What?” Mark asks, his voice strained with barely concealed aggression.

“It’s largely known that high emotion can trigger atypical abilities. Would it not be feasible that stimulating a large emotional response in Oliver could prompt his ability to act properly again?”

“I don’t want to take that risk,” Marks says, shaking his head.

“But what if it  _ helps _ , Byron? What if this is the thing that could fix me?”

“But what if it hurts you?”

“It’s emotions, Mark. I think I can handle feeling a little bit more happy than usual.”

“I don’t want to be the one who leaves you broken, Oliver.”

“Can’t be broken if there’s nothing left to break,” Oliver laughs bitterly.

Mark looks at him for a long moment, the words hanging in the air between them. 

Broken _. _

Oliver has used the word to refer to himself before. Many times.  _ Broken.  _ Mark knows what broken feels like and his heart fractures a little every time Oliver says it. 

This time it chips away at him just enough that he finds himself nodding.

“Ok.”

“What?!” Caleb exclaims, lurching forwards towards Marl. “You’re going to do this?”

“Oliver’s right,” Mark says quietly. “If it could get his ability to work properly again it’s worth a shot.”

“Mark—”

“Listen kid, I don’t expect you to understand—” Oliver interrupts.

“The fuck I don’t understand. You  _ want  _ us to put emotions in your head? Do you know how fucking invasive that feels?” Caleb is yelling now. The fear is rolling off of him like steam and Mark wants to reach out to him.

“I can handle my own decisions,” Oliver snaps at Caleb.

“Well you’re making a shitty decision right now,” Caleb says, getting in Oliver’s face now. Mark steps between them quickly.

“Caleb, please.” 

They’re all too close and the air is thick. It catches in Mark’s lungs and he takes a large gulping breath as he steadies himself. He’s forgotten what it’s like to feel this much at once.

“Mark, I—” His voice trails off as he meets Mark’s gaze. “You’re really asking me to do this?”

“Just this once, just this one time.”

Caleb stares at him in disbelief before shaking his head slightly and taking a step back. Mark takes a breath as the air clears a little.

“Just this once,” Caleb repeats. “But Mark? I am  _ never  _ doing something like this again.”

“Ok.”

“Oh good, the child is on our side now,” Oliver remarks before Mark glares at him pointedly.

“Can you stop calling me a child? I’m twenty one.”

“To me, you are an infant.”

“You’ll do it then,” Blackwell interrupts and they all turn to look at him.

“Just once,” Mark clarifies. “Nothing too much, nothing harmful.”

“Wonderful.” Blackwell claps his hands together. “How about we start with a little happiness?”

“Give it to me,” Oliver smirks and Mark finds himself shaking his head fondly despite the situation.

“I’m still not sure about this,” Caleb says quietly in Mark’s ear before settling himself to try and direct his emotions at Oliver.

“Follow my lead,” Blackwell says, taking a deep breath.

Happiness is an easy emotion to push out, Mark thinks, as he feels it spread out of him. It blooms in the bottom of your chest and it reaches outwards like sun shining from between your ribs. It seeps out of you, lights your skin and expands to fill the air surrounding your body. In a fleeting thought he considers how beautiful that is, that joy is so easily shared.

Mark watches the changes in Oliver. The weight leaves his shoulder and his face relaxes into a warm, happy smile. He shakes his hands out a little and bounces on the balls of his feet as he looks around at the three of them, pushing emotions into him.

“Oh my fucking God!” He grins. “Is this what it feels like for you? This is  _ incredible _ , why don’t you just do this all the time?”

“Because I know what it’s like to have other people’s emotions forced into me,” Caleb says pointedly, his stance faltering slightly as he faces Oliver.

“But when it feels like this, surely you can’t complain?”

“It is wonderful is it not?” Blackwell chuckles. “But Mr Michaels is right, it’s not always pleasant to have other people’s feelings pushed into you. Take this for example.”

The effects are immediate. Oliver hunches over, his whole body tightening as his hand comes up to clutch at his chest. Mark feels it too, the racing of anxiety through his veins, the shaking of his fingers as Oliver shrinks into himself at the feeling.

“Oh, this is...this is not as fun,” Oliver mutters, half laughing but with wide eyes and pale knuckles.

“No, it really isn’t.” Blackwell smiles at him.

“Ok you can stop now,” Mark says, positioning himself between Oliver and Blackwell.

“But we’re only just getting started,” Blackwell points out, his footsteps echoing around the room as he takes a step towards Oliver. “I wonder how far we can take this.”

“I said, you can  _ stop _ ,” Mark spits out, instinctively putting an arm out in front of Oliver.

“And give up on fixing Oliver’s ability?” Blackwell raises his eyebrows, shaking his head. “I thought you were better than that, Byron.”

_ Byron.  _ The name wraps itself around Mark and holds him tightly in place.

“Don’t call me that.” 

_ Come on, Byron. _

“Why not? It’s your name, isn’t it?”

_ I thought you were better than this, Byron. _

“Just...don’t.” Mark’s voice is embarrassingly small, strained. Blackwell quirks up an eyebrow in amusement and bares his teeth in a sharp smile.

“Mark, it’s ok, really,” Oliver says from behind him, his voice quiet but steady. “Keep going, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Caleb whispers and Mark turns back to see him standing awkwardly with his arms wrapped around himself in some attempt at comforting his trembling body. “I can feel that you’re not fine.”

“I know what I can handle, just — keep going, ok?” Oliver sets his shoulders back in a display of defiance but all of them can feel its artifice.

“Oliver…” Mark begins but Oliver looks at him with a need in his eyes. It’s in his stomach, that pull, that hunger, that  _ want _ . Mark knows what fire feels like, he’s been around enough pyrokinetics in his life to understand the burning. Oliver’s voice is flames in his blood as he quietly says his name. 

Mark feels that small flare of anxiety and he reluctantly pushes it out of himself and onto Oliver who flinches a little as it hits him.

“Mark, what the fuck?” Caleb exclaims, his voice climbing in volume now as he feels the anxiety stirring in the room.

“Just for a bit, Caleb, ok?” Mark assures him, “Just to see if we can help.”

“How the fuck is this helping him?” Caleb yells, throwing his hands out to gesture broadly around the room. Mark looks at them all standing there, tension hanging thick in the air. 

Asking this of Caleb is wrong, he knows that. He knows that Caleb shouldn’t have to do this but Oliver is standing there in pieces and Mark can’t leave it like this. It’s a terrible idea, that much is obvious, but he owes it to Oliver to try.

“Caleb, please,” he finds himself saying.

“Mark!”

“Caleb just do it, ok?” Mark sighs, hoping that Caleb can feel the same desperation from Oliver, from him.

Caleb lets out a long breath. 

“Ok.”

For his credit, Oliver copes remarkably well under the amount of stress they push onto him. He holds steady, doesn’t let his knees buckle, clenches his trembling fingers into fists at his side. Mark can feel the small laser sharp point of focus that emerges as Oliver begins to try to use his ability under the strain but he watches as nothing happens. Oliver’s face scrunches up in frustration as he tries again and Mark can feel it bleeding into him. 

“This doesn’t appear to be working,” Blackwell remarks coldly as Oliver scrubs a hand over his face.

“My ability is still broken.”

Blackwell thinks for a second. “Perhaps we need to increase the intensity.”

Mark and Caleb both yell at the same time as Blackwell pushes pain on to them. This time Oliver’s knees do give out as pain is channeled into him from all three of them. 

“Oh that’s a  _ lot. _ ” He winces as he braces himself against the floor, his breathing becoming more laboured.

“Please, stop!” Caleb cries out, clutching at his own chest as the pain flows through him. “You’re hurting him!”

“That’s exactly the point,” Blackwell says flatly, not faltering in his stance or even looking at Caleb at all. “We stop hurting him when the threshold of pain is sufficient to stimulate his ability. It’s quite simple.”

“No, we have to stop,” Mark says, scrambling towards Oliver who is now hunched over on the ground. 

“I can take it,” Oliver grunts, waving Mark away with a shaky hand.

“The fuck you can,” Mark says, batting his hand aside as he takes Oliver’s shoulders in his hands despite the screaming in his own muscles. “You shouldn’t be having to.” 

“Please stop, please,” Caleb begs. 

“We can’t stop now, we’re so close,” Blackwell mutters.

Mark spins around to face Blackwell, rage now burning within him. “ _Stop_ _fucking_ _hurting him!”_

Blackwell narrows his eyes at Mark and suddenly a crushing wave of agony almost pulls him under. Collapsing into an already suffering Oliver is not ideal so Mark crumples to the side. He looks up at Blackwell standing there and the pain spearing through him solidifies into a cold resolve as he takes that same pain and directs it right back at Blackwell who takes a surprised step back as if he had been hit in the chest.

Across the room, Caleb seems to come to the same resolution, lasering his focus to redirect all of his pain at Blackwell. This causes Blackwell to falter again slightly before his mouth twists into a small smile. 

Mark’s realisation comes a second before Oliver’s scream.

Oliver clutches at his skin as the collective pain of everyone in the room is directed at him. It takes everything Mark has in him to crawl over and wrap his arms protectively around Oliver.

“He asked for this,” Blackwell shrugs, shaking out the pained tension in his shoulders.

“Make it stop! Please, make it stop!” Caleb cries out as he collapses to the ground under the weight of the suffering.

“Oliver?” Mark mumbles in his ear as he presses Oliver against him.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t —” Oliver screams into Mark’s shoulder and Mark shakes as he holds him.

“Stop fucking hurting him!” Caleb yells, pushing himself up from the ground. It reminds Mark of a time he would rather forget, of blood, of another manipulator lying unconscious on the floor of a house. 

He knows immediately that he cannot let Caleb go through that again so he gently lets go of Oliver in order to get to his feet.

“You’re all too weak, what a shame,” Blackwell smirks.

It happens quickly. 

Caleb lunges but Mark is closer. Even as his body threatens to collapse in on itself, Mark grabs a chair from the nearby table and lifts it quickly, bringing it down over Blackwell’s head in a single, hard motion.

_ “I said stop hurting him.”  _

Blackwell crumples to the ground in the centre of the floor and it’s like the entire room exhales. There’s a strange lightness in the absence of all that feeling that leaves Mark feeling weightless even as he sinks down next to Oliver.

“Shit,” Oliver says as his arms give out and he falls to the ground.

“Hey, Oliver?” Mark asks, putting a hand gently on his arm.

“I’m okay,” Oliver says, not looking at Mark.

“No, you’re not.”

“I am—” Oliver tries to contest but Mark cuts him off by yanking him fiercely into his arms. Oliver buries his face in Mark’s shoulder and his hand reaches up to knot in Mark’s shirt.

“Shut the fuck up, okay?” Mark mutters into his hair and Oliver laughs a little breathlessly. They stay like that as Oliver’s body begins to loosen and relax in Mark’s arms. 

After a while, Oliver’s hands stop shaking and Mark takes them gently in his before kissing his knuckles. His eyes are closed, but Mark sees a weak smile flicker across his mouth for a second.

Glancing over, Mark sees Caleb hunched and shivering in the corner, looking as if he is trying to disappear into himself. Mark tries his best to push some calm towards him but it’s an emotion that’s slippery enough at the best of times and Mark doesn’t have an awful lot of calm to give right now. 

Mark squeezes Oliver’s hands quickly before extracting himself and making his way over to Caleb. There’s a stab of guilt as he sees the tear stains on Caleb’s cheeks and he wonders how he could have been so stupid as to convince Caleb to do this.

“I didn’t want to do that again,” Caleb whispers as Mark sits down beside him.

“Do what again?” Mark asks, bracing himself a little for the answer.

“Any of it,” Caleb answers in a small, broken voice. “The pushing emotions onto people, the being so taken over by other people’s feelings that I can’t hear my own fucking thoughts, attacking someone like—”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t want to be like him.”

“I know.”

“I just....I don’t want to—”

“Me neither,” Mark says, winding an arm around Caleb’s shoulder and pressing the boy against him. Caleb’s far too much taller than him for this to be practical but Mark doesn’t care.

“I’m sorry,” Caleb whispers.

“It’s not your fault, I encouraged you,” Mark says, shaking his head. 

_ It’s not your fault. It was my fault. _

“But I did it, and I lost control and I pushed my hurt onto everyone,” Caleb mumbles.

“Caleb, it’s  _ not  _ your fault.”

_ It’s my fault. _

“Sure,” Caleb grunts but Mark can feel the disbelief.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver says as they make their way out of the basement.

“Don’t you dare make me do something like that again,” Mark tells him.

“It didn’t even work,” Oliver says in a small, quiet voice.

Mark stops walking and catches Oliver’s arm. Oliver looks at him expectantly but Mark’s mind is empty of words. He wants to offer some reassurance, a promise that everything will be okay. But Mark knows that promises like that are nothing more than empty words.

Instead, he pulls Oliver into him again, wrapping his arms around his chest.

“You’re okay,” he mumbles into Oliver’s shirt.

“I’m always going to be broken,” Oliver sighs and Mark grips him even tighter.

“You are more than your ability,” he says, pulling back slightly to look Oliver in the face. “It being broken doesn’t make you broken. Even if a part of you doesn’t work, you are still whole. You are still a whole person.”

“I don’t...I don’t know who I am without it,” Oliver admits softly.

“Well then we can find out together, don’t you think?”


End file.
